


Forge Flake

by BookishSiren



Category: Suitor Armor
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26533915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookishSiren/pseuds/BookishSiren
Summary: "As the steel shapes beneath his hammer his mind drifts"Norrix works on his magnum opus, and thinks of the past.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Forge Flake

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in October 2019, before the reboot, though there's not much that's been added as of right now that makes me want to change this.
> 
> It's based off of the headcanon I have that Norrix forged Modeus himself, rather than commissioning an armorer, or using armor that had already been made.

There’s a certain comfort in the forge heat, in the weight of the hammer in his grip, in the sound of metal on metal as the armor forms before him.

It’s funny, the Court Mage muses. No one; not in the castle at least; would ever expect a mage to know his way around a forge. Shows them what they know of him. But they can believe what they want to about him. Once he’s done with this they’ll have to respect his abilities.

Still, for now, he’ll let himself enjoy this.

As the steel shapes beneath his hammer his mind drifts, thinking of his father. Norrix would be unsurprised if he was doing the same thing now, working the forge as he had long before he was born.

Unsurprisingly, some of his earliest memories took place in his father’s forge. Watching as the then imposing man shaped blanks, forming iron and steel into horseshoes and tools to be sold. The feel of coarse hands gently guiding him, teaching him the craft.

...Weaving fire borne of cooling coals, before being pulled away by his terrified father...

… The older man never liked magic, let alone that which his son bore. Called it unnatural, and forbidding his young child from using it. He; of course; never listened, choosing to practice in the dead of the night, when he could be assured that he wouldn’t be caught.

His mother did catch him a few times, but given how he had never heard of it from his father, she never did tell him. He supposes he can give her credit for that, not that she ever helped in the daylight.  
He pauses in thought, lifting the red-hot metal up with narrowed eyes. Quickly approaching too cool to work with, he buries it in the forge’s coals. Pumping the bellows, he slips back.  
His parents...

A part of him wonders if they still think of him, even after all these years. The other part asked why he cared. He left home with nary a word for a reason, knowing very well if he expressed his intention to travel to the royal city and procure a license to practice magic professionally that he would’ve found himself on the street regardless. At least this way it was on his own terms.

And it was worth it in the end. Not only is he legally practicing magic, but he’s the Court Mage. The authority on magic in the land. Someone to be respected.

… At least he will be.

Once he finishes this, everyone will have to respect him.


End file.
